Through my tears, I shift on my pillow, ready to turn to Nick after all.
But he, oblivious, is already moving, pushing the sheets back and reaching for his phone, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me.
So, I stay where I am.
He fixates on whatever’s got his attention on his screen, and I keep pretending to sleep, until, at last, sleep comes.
When I wake again in the morning, emerging with a jolt from the dreams that abruptly release me – such strange, compelling dreams in which, over and again, I see myself with Nick, reshooting Robbie and Iris’s reunion in scores of different ways, all over the house, and down at the base – my first instinct is to tell Nick about them.
But our bed is empty.
The room is silent.
It’s not yet light outside, and he is already gone.
Chapter Eight
I’m on my own most of the morning. Emma remains in her room, sipping Dioralyte and popping antibiotics, whilst everyone else is busy shooting. I don’t go down to the set to watch. I’m pretty glad to have this reprieve from it all. And although I do drop in to check on Emma, I don’t stay with her long, because it’s obvious how much she needs to sleep.
‘Call me if you need anything,’ I tell her as I leave.
‘Ditto,’ she says. ‘And no beating yourself up, ok?’
I’ve filled her in on the mess that was yesterday. I didn’t plan to bother her with it, but she asked how it had gone,distract me, please,and, before I knew it, out most of it came. Not what happened at Iris’s window (I still can’t talk about that), but everything else.
‘Felix won’t stay mad,’ she assures me.
‘Won’t he?’ I say, with an uneasy frown.
You shut me out, he said.Turned so cold, so fast.
I truly haven’t remembered it like that. But now that I’ve gone back over it all through the lens of his words, it is looking … different. He was so great, all summer, and I was so devastated by the violation of those photos –appalled,like he said – that I think he probably is right.
I think I couldn’t look at him, after they broke.
We only had a few days of shooting left. I’m not sure I even said goodbye to him before I flew off.
I must have though.
Didn’t I?
‘I screwed up,’ I say, as much to myself as Emma.
‘You get a pass,’ she tells me. ‘Felix knows that. He’ll come round. And you’ll sort everything else out. But you could use some rest too. So, take it, yes?’
‘All right,’ I say, since she’s sick, and I want to placate her.
Rest isn’t on my agenda though.
I’ve got way too much to do.
First, walking back to my room, I pull out my phone, texting Felix before I can change my mind.
I never wanted to shut you out, and if I could do it all again differently, I would. I’m really sorry for you not talking to me for the past three months. I’m sorry for all of it. No excuses. I miss you.
Hitting send, I feel instantly lighter.
I have no idea how he’s going to respond. I hope Emma’s right, and that he’ll come round, but regardless, it’s such a relief to have taken this step back towards him.
